Chapter 3 - The Alleyway
The freight elevator hit the basement with a heavy jolt. Evelyn slid the clutch into her pocket, readjusted Lily in her arms, and peered through the small reinforced glass window of the loading dock doors.
Two police cruisers were already parked near the dumpsters, their red and blue strobe lights painting the wet asphalt in vibrant, warning streaks. Julian had called in favors fast. Julian’s family owned half the precinct captains in Manhattan.
“Mommy, can I open my eyes?” Lily whispered against her collarbone.
“Not yet, sweetie. Keep counting.”
Evelyn crept past giant industrial laundry bins, keeping low beneath the line of sight. The rain was coming down in sheets outside, drumming against the metal roll-up doors.
Across the dock, idling in the blind spot of the hotel’s security cameras, was the black Suburban from the text message. The tinted rear passenger door clicked open an inch, releasing a faint puff of warm air into the damp alley.
Evelyn calculated the distance. Forty feet. Open ground.
“Hey! There she is!” a voice shouted from the stairwell door behind her.
A young beat cop had stepped through the door, his hand resting on his service holster. “Ma’am! Put the child down and raise your hands!”
Evelyn didn’t ask questions. She bolted.
Her heels came off in mid-stride, hitting the concrete as she sprinted barefoot toward the vehicle. Behind her, heavy boots splashed through puddles.
“Stop right there!”
Evelyn dove sideways through the open door of the Suburban just as a hand grabbed the hem of her emerald dress.
A gloved hand reached past her, grabbed the cop by the lapel of his tactical vest, and shoved him back with enough force to send him sprawling onto the grease-stained concrete. The door slammed shut with a heavy, vacuum-sealed thud.
“Drive,” a deep, gravelly voice ordered from the front passenger seat.
The SUV accelerated instantly, throwing Evelyn back into the leather seats as the tires screeched across wet pavement, blowing past the cruisers and into the neon glare of late-night Manhattan traffic.
Lily opened her eyes, blinking against the dim interior light. “Mommy? Who is that?”
May you like
Evelyn caught her breath, looking up. Sitting in the front seat, turning around slowly to face them, was Marcus Vance—Julian’s estranged older brother and the legitimate heir to the Vance Empire.
“You took your sweet time hitting him, Evelyn,” Marcus said with a cold, razor-sharp grin. “I’ve been waiting five years for someone to break Julian’s nose.”
